A Year at The Baths

Looking around the theater, with its soft, not really dim, lighting, I saw a man lying on his stomach on the top row, outer leg slightly drawn. There were also a couple men on the other two lower tiers. but the man on the top row was intriguing - several times, I have seen men lay like that, but I have never seen what happens, as all the other times involved booths, with generally quickly closed doors.

Deciding to do at least one hit of Rush before the action on the screen grew even hotter, I stood there, hand now stroking my horny cock. A man went by, looked around, and then left. There being no reason to stop stroking myself watching sexy porn, actually leaving to do a hit became delayed. Not all gay porn disinterests me, and a man with a hard cock having his ass licked by another turned on man always makes me hard.

Another towel clad man walked by, with an essentially shaved head, somewhat smaller and slimmer than I, with a smallish black bag slung over his shoulder. He took a couple of steps further in, then returned to stand next to me, glancing around. Observing him from the side of my vision, I saw his head scan the area, followed by moving on up to top of the back area. He sat down next to the lying man, a cue for me to leave. I quickly entered the empty booth at the other end of the corridor into the theater area, locked the door, and opened the little brown bottle, and took a deep hit.

The feeling that spread holding my breath as long as possible, hammering my cock with a feeling of unstoppable immensity, was a perfect accompaniment to my thoughts of what happen, the feeling of my hand touching my cock as I rearranged my towel so that its slit was directly centered a further inducement to going back to the same place to observe what was going on.

Hand within the folds of the towel, I walked back, the intensity of my desire wonderfully amplified by the Rush still making me feel so free. Rush is quite a dangerous thing - that feeling of complete freedom is not really accurate, even as the feeling of total sluttiness overwhelms any inhibitions.

The scene made my cock stand out, reacting to the laying man being rimmed by a man he hadn't even seen before he started, a man playing with his own hard cock. My fist's motion settled into the same rhythm, now learning at least one variation of the games played with a man laying on his stomach in a bathhouse. A thought that just made my slutty stroking better, filing away that information in memory before settling in to just absorb the reality, completely enthralled by a living example of another of my favorite man to man activities, a reliable source of arousal, especially while jacking off.

The rimming was followed by a finger circling the laying man's well lubricated asshole, then starting to slide in. This change offered enough of a break to leave and do another hit of Rush, living out the sort of fantasy which had first filled my thoughts with sexual longing in the early 80s, masturbating to gay porn, with the little brown bottle making it feel so perfect. My cock now really hard, the man with two fingers in the other moaning one's ass saw me re-enter and open my towel. He didn't seem to mind as he returned his attention to the other man, now raised up on his knees, his ass completely available, begging for more as a third finger began to join the other two.

Riveted as the sitting man stopped playing with himself, I watched him pull out a bottle of lube from the bag. Opening it, he let some of the fluid fall onto his fingers and between the other man's ass cheeks. He again took his time spreading it around, and I could see how the bent over man was playing with his own hard cock, obviously enjoying the results of the other's foresight and talents. His moans became louder than the porn, still showing a man getting stroked and rimmed, when the fingers started to go deeper. I kept pumping my shaft, adding my own moaning to the mix, knowing that no one cared about such trivial things in here.

Playing with myself, the finger fucking above me became more intense, at some point turning into true fucking, the thrusting fingers completely in control of the other man's pleasure. The moans being an obvious sign of the reaction the lubed fingers were creating, a result of his completely passive role, having his horny his ass being played with in public by the first stranger that had wanted it.

A thought arose, making my wrapped hand move even faster - it could have been me, not that it mattered by now. Whenever the next chance arose, it was obvious that taking advantage of a laying man offering his ass to any stranger who wanted it was something to indulge in - especially if I made certain that some lube was in my own bag. An easily met condition, as the bathhouse also had lube available, in the same style of packet as condoms. The lube came from the same anti-AIDS source as the free condoms, and the packaging noted it was latex safe. I have actually jacked off at home using the lube, simply to see what it was like - neither as fantastic as Vaseline in terms of friction, nor as simple as KY in terms of clean up, it would certainly work well enough the next time an opportunity presented itself.

A series of thoughts pushed my heavy cock close to cumming, fantasizing about the next chance, beyond hesitation from taking advantage of such a willing partner, having seen it happen it in public. Likely, I would leave the door to a booth open - being public adds its own thrill, a feeling of being in complete control, aware how it would add to the laying man's pleasure, knowing that anyone could see how he was getting off, his ass still open to anybody walking by.

Like other thoughts over the years of enjoying gay porn, these seemed so much clearer and realistic after enjoying several deep hits from that magical brown bottle. My hard cock was dominating me completely, demanding release, not caring about cumming on the floor. Retaining a bit of calm in extending my fist's motion to cover the entire length of my cock, no longer caring if anybody saw just how turned on I was watching the pair at the back. The crest passed, in small but significant part because making a mess isn't really in keeping with how the bathhouse works. Riding down the other side, I decided to do a last hit, followed by a return to the steam room. Till now, much of my pleasure had been from watching and stroking, making it time to finally let myself go completely.

Returning to the steambath, it was a surprise to see that 3/4 of an hour had passed, a period which likely covered at least a half hour of jacking off or being stroked. This too is one of the effects of the bathhouse - time as marked by a clock compared to the feeling of time passing consciously simply loses any felt connection. The time that had passed since noticing the time at the bar when drinking my beer had been filled with such intense pleasure that actually estimating how long I had sat in the whirlpool with a hard cock wasn't possible without some serious, and easily mistaken, effort.

The passing time had seemed both very long and very short, including the realization that I had likely already played with at least 3 stranger's cocks, while at least two strangers had played with mine. A typical visit, apart from the new experience of the jacuzzi. At some point, it may be that the bathhouse will no longer offer unanticipated pleasures, but after a year, this hasn't been true.

Near the entrance, I took off my towel and glasses, grabbed a couple of condoms from the cloth bag left handed, opened the door and re-entered the very familiar world of a male only steam bath, in particular the only one I have visited (apart from the older and now disused steam room one floor above) - over and over again. Sweaty naked men can make visiting a steambath a truly irresistible - at times, the more the merrier attitude is overwhelming. Once enjoyed in full, repeating the experience becomes the sort of easily achieved goal that rewards repeated indulgence.

By now, the bathhouse had been open for a couple of hours on a Saturday afternoon, leading to a not unsurprising amount of business. A conclusion reinforced by the number of towels in the alcove. Entering the blue lit dimness, only one person was visible standing near the entrance glass door. My eyes weren't adapted to the gloom, a lack which didn't slow my step much while moving to my goal, the rear area, my cock already growing in anticipation. A play area that guarantees a certain direct simplicity in finding other naked men wanting sex. Walking on, a certain feeling was settling around my cock, spreading out towards my center, a flooding awareness of the coming opportunity to take full advantage of another bathhouse benefit, generally unadvertised but commonly known among repeat visitors.

I was horny, especially after the whirlpool and the porn theater, confident knowing that in here, others were feeling exactly the same way, just waiting for the chance to get off. I decided to move to the rear area between the marginally lit open space and the even more marginally lit back section. I like being being able to see what is going on, at least in outline, when close enough to see in the dimness and without my glasses. In the truly black spaces, seeing is not a factor, but in general, I prefer watching while participating, seeing what is happening adding to the intensity - whenever my eyes are open, which is certainly not all the time, especially when the pleasure is so complete.

Walking on, unable to stop my hand from reaching for my swelling cock, with only the barest of excuses - one couple was clearly entwined on the bench, even if precisely what they were doing with each other was more a matter of speculation than direct observation. Not that this made any difference, especially when glancing around, seeing at least one man with his hand on his cock to my right, almost across from the pair. Another man was sitting on the bench further on, his head turned towards the couple and his arm moving in a manner suggesting precisely what his hand was doing.

Moving on, my hand sliding along my almost rigid shaft, I saw one man against the wall, both hands at his crotch, not quite covering and not quite exploring it. His head was also turned to see along the bench, and as the sounds of cock sucking started close behind me, his hand slid along his shaft, pressing it downwards against his thigh. I curved nearer to the section entrance, staying at an angle from the wall area occupied by the now jacking off man. Till now, I had not really been involved except as a minor distraction as he focused on the action, and my taste is more directed towards the contrast between dark and light, public and private when settling in to this area.

Leaning a bit against the wall, a figure that had already moved in and out of my view when walking to this spot reappeared, his hand reaching most discretely towards my thigh, lightly and slowly sliding upwards, curving rearwards, adding just the hint of his desire to pull me closer. Something which became temporarily impossible to satisfy as I slumped against the wall when his other hand reached my nipple.

I kept stroking my cock in total satisfaction, my left hand lazily reaching out until finding sweaty skin, then sliding on. The hand on my thigh loosened, moving higher, getting closer to my waiting balls while my own hand rubbed over his curly pubic hair. Continuing lower, fingers spread, covering his pubis, then turning, my hand met the root of his cock between my middle and ring finger, my fingers now lightly grasping his quite tight scrotum.

After making this promising contact, full of male lust, I spared a last look around before focusing my attention completely on more direct matters. Other men were around, at least one pair fucking, and another pair orally involved, one man kneeling, hands on the hips of the other, who was leaning against the wall, close to the other entrance to this section of the steamroom. The lighting there allowed me to see a cocksucking performance, keeping my attention for a bit, though it became clear that the level of sounds surrounding us meant at least one other pair further away in the blackness was getting off that way too.

When his hand reached my balls, I moaned, sliding split fingers outwards on his tautly velvet skin, gliding along his shaft until reaching his flared cock head. Making him moan in turn, place his hand over mine, stopping it on a downstroke, creating the chance to stroke me without any interference on my side. Keeping the tension perfect without moving, this stranger's hand started manipulating me into paradise.

Leading me, in a dream like fashion, to try to return the favor, my hand curving around his cock, beginning to move along its hard length. In an equally dream like fashion, after some impossible to measure interval as he kept playing with my cock and nipple, my right hand travelled over his chest, looking for his nipple. Finding a hard nub, my fingers began playing with it, as my left hand started to jerk him off.

Leading us to turn closer, taking up more of the space as we shifted position. Looking around again, I could see one threesome, a man getting sucked as he was fucked, a pair on the bench, and another pair standing maybe a yard away, against the same wall, but nearer the bench. Which, as I focused a bit, had a man sitting on it, stroking his cock as he licked the hard cock in front of him, sharing it with the third man's hand.

Clearly, everyone else was involved in their games as we were, making it unlikely anyone would be moving any time soon, except closer to each other. Closing my eyes again, my right hand slid under his arm, then went upwards to feel his head, positioning it as I bent closer to his head, making it impossible for him to move without me reacting, and holding him in place. My first, almost innocent intention, was to just lick his ear, knowing that this sort of liquid motion felt as good as having one's nipple played with.

At the first touch of my wet tongue, he moaned again, his sliding hand tempting me to continue exploring what was in reach, I couldn't stop, his scent and taste simply too tempting now, forcing me to run my tongue down his neck, then back upwards, tantalizingly close to his lips, before moving back to his ear, beginning to allow my teeth to slide along a stranger's skin, though with a certain restraint. A restraint that faded as he again began to jerk me harder, the motions on my cock becoming more tempting the harder my teeth pressed, moved, then tightened again.

Unlike the last time, fucking a man's willing ass in almost the same place in the steamroom, we were definitely not the center of anyone's attention, which suited me perfectly, all my attention focusing on him. By now, it was clear we would be kissing, a still rare form of pleasure when shared with a man. His reactions and his body made it inevitable, making me horny enough to let myself give in to the inevitable.

By this point in my life, I have likely played with at least 100 strangers' cocks, and the total could easily be 50% higher, as sometimes, simply losing track of where hands are straying and playing is part of the pleasure making counting irrelevant. Though easily inflated in the other direction, as a total, 100 remains a reliable enough number for comparison, at porn booth video gloryholes, bookstores, adult theaters, and here. Especially here, as generally, the experience is much more rewarding, though a gloryhole experience a few months ago reminded me of the exquisite pleasures of being against a flat surface, arms spread upwards, only my cock beyond the barrier, pumping hot cum past the unyielding wall into a man's totally yielding mouth or ass.

Obviously, kissing a man is not possible at a gloryhole, a fact making my first experience of it at a porn complex so extraordinary - the older man, who called himself Peter, was an incredibly skilled kisser, who opened my horizons through our shared and undeniable enjoyment with our mouths pressed against the other's, hard cocks touching, making me reply in kind, my tongue deep in his mouth. And kissing him after he had sucked my cock was even hotter than any fantasy, tasting my own pre-cum in his mouth, my tongue's need to explore such sexual intimacy driving me deeper and harder against his open mouth, as my hand grasped both our cocks and stroked, enhancing the feeling we were creating.

Compared to kissing, cocksucking has been far more common till now, though always with a condom, with only the occasional kiss on a man's shaft - especially during my first experience kissing a man. I love sucking cock now, accepting the mild disadvantages associated with a condom, ensuring that the experience is both less abandoned and more sequential. Though I have sucked two cocks off, one after the other, it has only occurred once - though sucking two or three cocks in a visit is not uncommon, it isn't really the same as being on your knees, and taking another cock as soon as the first one has cum. The same applies to two men sucking my covered cock, as till now, I have never sucked cock with another man at the same time. Having two men kneel like that is an incredible feeling on the receiving end, and one I would like to offer.

Even when it is my cock being sucked, I try to make sure a condom is used, especially after seeing just how casual sex between men at the bathhouse is. I understand the reason why this is so, but that changes very little of the reality, even when another man's warm lips start to go down on my cock, making such thoughts very distant. Something that happens at least during 2 out of 3 visits, even if my record in stopping it and putting on a rubber is much better than that.

In the present, though not really a coherent thought, the natural idea of teasing his cock further made me start to bite gently along his neck, growing closer to my final goal, recognizing that this time, there would be no stopping myself from kissing this sexy naked stranger, the one making my cock feel so good. A somewhat uncommon occurrence even at this stage, as my tongue has tasted and teased many more men than those who have kissed my wanting lips. Kissing is somehow another level, requiring a certain compatibility that is trickier to achieve than even sucking a hard cock off. Not impossible, by any means, but quite rare.

Here and now, sharing this wonderful level with him, my tongue slid over his parted lips, his tongue sliding over mine in return, following it back, entering my mouth as we began rubbing cock to cock, enjoying a uniquely male pleasure. His tongue exploring as hungrily as mine, creating a connection more individual than any other I know, we both recognized the skills of the other, skills already leading us further.

I finally broke the kiss, letting my tongue run down back down to his neck, our hands returning to each other's jutting cocks. By now, he was too close to cumming to stop himself, and I wouldn't have let him anyways, since making him cum was the only way to prevent him from making me cum first. A certain unavoidable sloppiness and distraction takes over the closer someone gets to cumming, even as your focus on them tightens, making your own orgasm recede a bit from the one that is beginning to dominate the other person under your control. This is true whether the other person is male or female - and the best players of this particular game know that there are never any losers.

My left hand began playing again with his still hard nipple as my open mouth slid under his jaw, my own breathing heavy against his neck. My lips closed on his ear, feeling a small hard stud, my tongue lightly darting over the covered skin. He slumped and moaned, his hand unmoving on my cock, so close to cumming. Pumping his cock, I began kissing him again, my hand demanding that he surrender to my lust. His hand moved slightly on my aroused cock, causing my focus to waver for a bit, in the best way.